Snapshots - Sick Days
by ImpalaWriter07
Summary: Scene from a larger fic coming soon. Dean convinces Tori to take a much needed sick day, but a voice in her past convinces her there are more important things to do with her time.


"Sick Days"

 **Author's note:** My first short fic, this is actually a small preview-ish of a large fanfic I'm working on. I might end up changing the time of this piece later on to fit my story better, but for now, I just wanted to have _something_ to write and get to know my new O.C. a little. Plus this is how I've been feeling the last few days, unfortunately. Hope you like it!

 **~SPN~**

Tori woke to a pounding headache. After years of hunting monsters, she felt like a sissy every time she was taken down by sickness. She yawned and immediately clapped a hand over her throat. She groaned; this was _not_ a good time. She and the boys were supposed to leave the bunker in an hour for a case five hours away. She almost thought of taking a sick day, but pushed the thought back as she heard John Winchester's voice in her head loud and clear, "Monsters don't acknowledge sick days; they just keep killin'. All the better for them if you stay home on account of a little headache."

With another groan, Tori pulled herself out of bed and dressed, more or less dragging her packed duffle bag into the kitchen with her. She accepted the glass of orange juice Sam handed her and sunk down to a stool next to the kitchen island. She stared at her juice like it was a vicious animal – she know she should put up a good front and drink it, but she also knew the pulp would be murder on her throat.

"You ok?" asked Dean, "You look awful."

"I feel awful; it comes as a set."

"You need to sit this one out? Sam and I can handle it."

Oh, if John could hear his son now. Tori shook her head, "I'll be fine. Probably just allergies. I've been helping Sam with those books downstairs and it's a wee bit dusty down there, you know."

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance of worry, but kept quiet until they were all in the garage. As Tori leaned down to pick up her duffle and throw it in the trunk, she felt a wave of dizziness. Her hand shot out to steady herself on the Impala.

"That's it. You're staying here," said Dean as he grabbed Tori around the waist.

"I'm ok Dean. Just a little tired. I'll sleep in the car and –,"

"No way, sweetheart. Last thing this job needs is an off-key hunter. We'll all be safer if you stay put and get better."

Tori grumbled, but allowed Dean to lead her back to her bedroom. Once there, Dean refused to leave until she was settled back into bed.

"Call me when you get there," she said, snuggling down into the blankets, "And after the thing is dead, so I know you're ok."

"I will, hon," Dean promised as he leaned down to kiss her head. "And you promise to rest and get lots of liquids in you, got it?"

Tori nodded and watched Dean leave. She heard the distant rumble of the Impala and the garage door before she fell into a fitful sleep.

"What are you doing?" Tori woke hours later to a gruff but familiar voice.

"Sick," she mumbled.

"Monsters don't take sick days, kiddo. At least get your butt out to that library and be useful."

Tori blinked and looked around, but there was no one in the room with her. Yet John's words still rang clear. Sighing, she hauled herself out of bed and stumbled to the library.

Sam and Dean had just settled into a motel room when Sam's phone rang.

"I'll get the last of it," said Dean, headed back outside to the car.

Sam nodded and answered his phone. "Tori? Hey, we were just about to call you. We just got to town and –," Sam paused, "What? Tori, slow down, ok? Gosh, your voice sounds like…Tori, what are you yammering about? It's not a wendigo; I told you last night, it's a –,"

Just then Dean came back into the room.

"Oh good, Dean. You gotta talk to her."

"Something wrong?"

"I don't know. She's not making sense."

Dean snatched the phone away, "Tori?" He listened for several seconds before it dawned on him what was going on. "Tori, where are you? _Where are_ you?...Get _out_ of the library, drink some water and go _back to bed!_ "

A day later, Tori had barely moved from bed. Late that night Dean called, but she knew she had no voice to answer. After her phone stopped ringing, she sent a text, "throat hurts, can't talk".

Dean sent one back saying the monster was dead and they were on her way back, and asked what she wanted them to pick up.

She sloppily managed to type in, "Aple juice, chik soup, and sore trout med," before falling back to sleep.

When she woke up again, Dean was sitting on the bed, gently sitting her up.

Tori made a sound somewhere between and whine and a groan – her typical, "but I don't want to wake up right now" sound.

"You know I usually give your grumpy sounds a few shots at the snooze button, honey, but you need some flu medicine in you."

"Are you sure?" she croaked out skeptically, as she looked at the small measuring cup of liquid he handed her.

"Pretty sure; considering your text looked like it was typed by a first grader."

Tori managed a small smile right before she gulped down the thick liquid.

Dean chuckled at the face she made when she swallowed then handed her a glass of apple juice. "So what was the big idea of being in the library when you'd been prescribed bed rest?"

Tori shrugged. "Seems weird it would pop into my head after all this time, but…Your dad used to tell me monsters just got a get out of jail free card whenever a hunter took a sick day; he'd tell me to hit the books and find _some way_ to be useful. I had disagreements with him, but have you ever tried to disagree with him in the middle of a _hunt_? I think at some point I had it in my head that he was here. Don't know why…it's been years…"

"Being sick tends to make us think of things; all that spare time, I guess. And old habits are hard to break, no matter how long it's been…But can we agree that next time you're sick, you just tell me you need to stay here?"

Tori smiled and snuggled up against Dean. "Yeah, ok."

"Good. 'Cause I don't think I can ask another pharmacist for trout meds with a straight face."


End file.
